"Where should I get it from? Haven't you already seized upon every vestige of paper to make your dragon with?"
"Do look! Perhaps you'll find some old bill or other."
Meanwhile the dvornik had come up to them.
"Well, Tanaschi, what is it?"
"A letter."
"To whom?"
Bethsaba seized the letter from the dvornik.
"Oh, oh! A woman's handwriting! Take it. A love-letter. Some former flame writing to reproach you. Read it. Of course it is to make an appointment."
"You are right enough. It is a woman's handwriting, but addressed to you, not to me, my dear."
"To me?" cried Bethsaba, in surprise. "Who can have written to me? Perhaps Zeneida?"